Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
“I can’t imagine.”
“I figured he wouldn’t even be there anymore. That he would’ve grabbed his pole and run like the fucking coward he always was. But no. He was there. His truck was still in front of the house. And I knew even before I stepped through the door what would happen.”
My chest is tight with dread, and I get the feeling I was way wrong when I interpreted Mrs. Cooper’s story.
“I walked in, and what did I find? My mother was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. Trying to clean up Becky’s blood. Only it wasn’t just her blood. He kicked the shit out of Mom while I was gone – I’m surprised she could see with both eyes swelling up. And all he could do was scream at her to clean up the mess.”
Tears drip off my chin and onto my bare chest, soaking into the sheet. I can’t help it. It’s too much, but I won’t tell him to stop. I wanted to know, didn’t I? And now, he deserves to tell his story. I think he needs to.
“I didn’t wait for him to goad me into it. I don’t even think he saw it coming. It all came out of me – all of it, every last bit. The hatred. The humiliation. All the pain he ever put me through. The pain he put my mom through. The pain he put Becky through. I wasn’t thinking. I was just… hitting. Again, I knew Mom was begging me to stop, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. Doing what I had dreamed of doing for so long felt so good. I didn’t stop until he was dead. And even then, I wanted to keep going.”
“I finally snapped out of it, and the only thing I felt bad about was the way Mom cried. That’s the only thing I felt guilty over. Otherwise, he had it coming. But then reality came back in, and I realized what it was telling me. Obviously, I’d be arrested. I might even be tried as an adult. It’s so remarkable, the things that go through your head at a time like that. I could see a judge, deciding that I was pissed enough to go back to the house and kill him for what he did to Becky. I hardly noticed Mom making a phone call. And when she got off the phone, she was like a different person. Like a robot. She took a trash bag from under the counter and told me to remove all my clothes and put them inside. Even my shoes. I was only in my underwear when she told me to go up and take a shower, and I did, because I guess I needed somebody to tell me what to do. I sure as hell couldn’t figure it out on my own. And somehow, while I was showering, she found the strength to throw most of my stuff in a bag. It was all packed up by the time I got out of the shower. And that was when she told me I was going away.”
My head is spinning.
“I guess you know the rest. I don’t know what made her call Callum; I really don’t. I know they didn’t completely fall out of touch over the years, so maybe she had an idea of what he did. The kind of life he led. Maybe he was the only man she had ever trusted. I’ll never be able to ask her now. But either way, he showed up in no time — really, he must’ve flown here. He came and took me away. She told me I could never return, but I could trust him because she trusted him. If I came back, though, and people started asking questions, it could all fall apart.”
What must that have been like? Sixteen years old, having just beaten his father to death, knowing he could never return home? Not if he didn’t want to end up in prison. “So Dad hid you.”
“He did more than hide me. He taught me all the things I never learned. I know you think I wanted to take your place – that’s not true, but I’m not going to pretend I’m not grateful for his guidance. He taught me how to be a man. He opened me up to a world I sure as hell didn’t know existed. He gave me a future – yeah, there is a lot of danger, but my life here was dangerous, too. Besides, I kind of liked it. I mean, how much worse can you get than killing your own father with your bare hands? What else did I have to lose?”
“Did you… ever talk about it again?”
“Only once. He told me his guys had cleaned it all up. They would make it look like some random killing. They dumped his body in the landfill, and it’s not like he had any friends around here besides his drinking buddies. He made it a point to plant it in the paper that Dad had a history of gambling problems and a little trouble with the law when he was a kid, just in case anybody felt sympathetic. Really, nobody was going to go out of their way to see who killed him. He also told me he would take care of my mom. She would never want for anything again – but how could that be true, since I wasn’t with her?”